


The Wanderer's Women

by OXIGENIUSHIPSTER31



Category: Fandom - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 00:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2329256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OXIGENIUSHIPSTER31/pseuds/OXIGENIUSHIPSTER31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are those who conquer, those who entertain and those who wander.</p><p>From the writer of the Dark Identities series, The Fight Of Dominance That Smosh Could Not Win and Procrastinator For Life</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

#### The cold ground lay with the pitter patter of feet. Clive sat, looking past his dirty blonde hair and over the Halifax River, holding his coffee in his left hand and fiddling with his keys with the right with his usual look of discernment. His phone bellowed to that awful Yokia theme tune. Clive answered: Gladys replied "How is it over there." She asked "I've just drove an hour and forty five minutes and I haven't checked in, the rain and thunder has just stopped enough to get myself a disgusting coffee, on the flight over here the only earphones that I could get where those shitty canal earphones, a woman that knew I came from England asked me if I knew Elton John, seriously, the flight was delayed and I had to upgrade my hire car. So, you know, average day in 'Merica."

# The Wanderer's Women

#### "What type of car did you get?" Gladys asked "I don't know. I say that even though I'm holding the keys... it is a... oh yeah, it's a Nissan Micra. Or whatever they call it over here" "Cool." "It's not cool, it's a shame to drive it." "Well you don't need the investors to notice your whip." "Whip? What the fuck are you? Someone who's not blonde, white and from Birmingham." "What's wrong with Birmingham?" "People from Birmingham don't drive whips, they drive someone else's whip." "For fucks sake." "Why did you call me? Especially on the phone that Gullwing are covering." "Alright, you know that you'll be presenting Bait And Switch, Advance Of The Leather Eagle and Chapter One: Broadcast?" "Yeah." "Well, there has been an addition." "Huh?... what?" "Another book has been added to your presentation." "Okay, what?" "Chasing Sheep Is Best Left To Shepherds." "No!" "Yeah, Nolberk's new one." "You have to be shitting me." "I'm not." "Do you know why I joined Gullwing Publishing, do you?" "No, why?" "I came to Gullwing because I thought differently. I had an opinion which was different to all the others. I was one of those people who wanted to change the world." "Okay, okay." "The last thing I said, literally the last thing I said to Moore was: Just don't make me present Nolberk. Literally, the last thing I said to him before I got on that fucking plane." "I'm sorry but it has to be done." "...Fine, goodbye Gladys." "Goodbye Clive." Clive slipped the phone back into his pocket, steaming the last of fucks to be given. At this point, a smiling young man of black hair, bright blue eyes and a red and black striped button shirt leaned towards Clive, everything about him shouted one thing: Hipster. He said in a pre-cautious manner "I'm sorry to bother you but, I couldn't help noticing your voice and... Do you know Benedict Cumberbatch?" Clive raised an eyebrow in disappointment and opportunity. Clive then answered in a fake happy voice "Know him, I polished his shoes just last thursday."

#### The walls were painted in pastel blue and the bed was covered in pastel grey. His bags lay upon the dresser which also supported the obligatory television. The doors of the cupboard were parted. Clive sat upright on the bed facing the balcony window, he was working his fingers along the scratchings and indictments of the bed frame contemplating the better times that could be had here. He would be shafting across Florida lugging the rejection of six distributors and for what? Having that Nolberk piece of shit being more well known and more undeservedly popular? Clive turned his head to face the mirror on the door, as usual, he had anguished eyebrows and a snorted nose. He closed his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh as he did so.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

#### Jerome opened his eyes, his blue eyes and jet black hair looked back at him. The top button of his shirt lay undone. He passed his hand along the bed frame, feeling the deep ridges that had been crafted in for a more 'mid century' look. It was at this point a woman of blonde hair and medium height entered the room and stood in front of him. He knew her name, more than two million people know her name, Kristen Smith. However, Jerome knew her as, 'babe'. "It has been such a long day..." She said wrapped her hands around his neck "It doesn't look like it." Jerome replied "Then what do I look like?" "You look like someone who had just changed back into her normal clothes after a Vein photo shoot." "Why Vein?" "You're not going to be on the cover of Peep Show Magazine are you?" "Oh, my hipster Huntington Beach Jerome, what would I do without you?" "Well, you would still be in Virginia... and be giving yourself orgasms." Jerome ripped apart Kristen's shirt. Kristen fumbled over the buttons on Jerome's shirt, her bare skin brought closer by Jerome's hands. Now both shirtless, they began kissing heatedly. Jerome worked his hand up to Kristen's caramel hair and removed her bobble, unleashing her full and luscious hair over her shoulders. Hot and passionate, Jerome began lowering his kisses down her silky smooth neck. She un-hooked her floral texture bra and slung it around Jerome's face, her giggle covered up her sigh of pleasure from Jerome's hands caressing her. Kristen lowered her hands to Jerome's waist and ripped his jeans down to his ankles. He lay naked and hard. Jerome pulled her yoga pants down, exposing her taut firm ass to the touch of his finger tips. Jerome's towering cock penetrated her pink slip-and-slide. The sensation arched her forward, she gripped onto the bed frame and prepared. She stuttered in a quiet plea, "Don't go easy on me." Jerome acknowledged her request. Her exasperations gradually became screams of joy. Jerome brought her closer and ripped her hands from the bed frame. "Fuck, Fuck!, FUCK!" The orgasm shook through her like a train crashing into a library. Kristen pulled herself further up, they were now eye level. "I'm not done." Jerome uttered bringing shivers up Kristen's spine. Jerome rapidly forced Kristen to the other pillow, he grabbed both of her hands and straddled her before she could react. "No, oh god... fucking shit!" Kristen shouted. Jerome wrapped his and in her luscious hair began to pull back. From what they were doing, Jerome assumed that Kristen liked pain "Don't stop, never ever stop!" She pleaded. The thrusts intensified until the shake of the bed became to much to handle. She fell, onto the night-stand and flopped down. Her eyes now, cold and lifeless, searched the ceiling. Jerome gently waved his hand, then dragged her eyelids down. She lay as if the heavens were summoning her. He grabbed the strewn shirt, put it on her and dragged her to the bathtub. The shower head was full of lime-scale and the tub it's self was laden with the marks of the bath mat. Her phone lay on the night-stand that she ended herself on, the back covered in fake diamonds and the occasional anime reference. Jerome browsed the contact list, searching for what would explain this. 'Would it be under A or P?' He wondered to himself, naturally it was in H. It rung. "Hey babe, d'you need anything?" Anthony questioned "Sir, I represent the Pastel Sky hotel, I'm afraid we have found your wife." Jerome lied firmly "Okay, she's my fiancée but where has she been?" "Mr. Padilla, Kristen is dead." "How do you know my name?" "...When I turned the phone on, it was on your Facebook page." "But, how did you get onto her phone when she set up a pass-code." Jerome found himself weaving through one lie after another. He couldn't lie about his perfect bodied wife, so he took the fall for her. "Mr. Padilla, your wife was killed by myself. As the people like you would say, come at me bro." Jerome threw her phone in the flowing abyss that was her deathbed. The water was now at her belly button, the clear liquid entered like a dam in reverse. Jerome knew what he had to do. Jerome knew he had to run.

 

The phone rang again. Laying on the bed, Clive reached for the phone on the night stand and answered, "Hello?" "Hi, me again." Gladys replied "I'm sorry for what I previously said." "It's okay, I've dealt with worse." "Do you know where I was before I came to Gullwing?" "Actually, I do not, enlighten me." "I used to present dairy products to supermarkets." "Sweet." "No, no sweet things." "No, I mean sweet as in good." "Do you want to know why I came to Gullwing?" "Yeah, why not." "In 2002, I became an author. It was called Running Circles, Jumping Hurdles." "Oh, wow." "In 2005, I had made my first screenplay, Closed Wound." "'Hell." "It lasted one season and the second season was cancelled mid-production. The Swedish version is still going strong and does not credit me in any way." "Oh... shit." "Late 2006, I released my second book. Double Vodka, Please." "Yeah." "In 2009, I had a play produced. Sadly, The Walk Of Evan Tenner couldn't get of the ground." "Uh-huh." "Three years ago, I had made a second screenplay, Automatic." "Wait, I watched that. Didn't it have Tom Hardy in it?" "Yes, yes it did! I've never met anyone who's seen it." Clive gently smiled at having a fan, the first in a twelve year carrier his teeth stood white and strong. "I actually really liked that show. It had a great tone." "Thank you so much." "Sorry but I must ask, do you have anything to publish?" "Rule number one of writing: Never give yourself boundaries." Clive put the phone back in his pocket and reached his hands around his neck in surprise. He looked in the mirror, admiring the smile that he had not seen for a long time. He looked down in disbelief and closed his eyes.


End file.
